A Second Chance
by Confetti Leaves
Summary: Life is about to get complicated when, as Morgan and Emily attempt to plan their wedding, Emily's father suddenly wants to be a part of her life again. Chapter 15 is rated M. Co-written with ArwenLalaith.
1. Chapter 1

_CHAPTER ONE  
_

"_When your faith is stretched so thin you can see right through your soul and you can't find a nickel to buy a smile 'cause your pockets all got holes... You wanna shut the door and hide before the day can get much worse... I wanna be the one you reach for first."_

_Sugarland_

*****

Emily quickly hung up the phone before the person on the other end of the line could say anything more. She sighed heavily, revelling in the sound of silence for a few moments.

Then, she heard Morgan chuckling slightly to himself.

Barely having the energy to lift her head, she turned to glare at him. Gesturing at him with the phone, she threatened, "You think that's funny, do you?" He did his best to work up an innocent expression, but couldn't quite manage around his smirk. "Well, you're taking her next call... See how funny you think it is then."

She had just spent nearly an hour on the phone with Garcia who was, if possible, even higher energy than usual. The second they had told her there was going to be a wedding, she had insisted on helping with the preparations. Which, of course, was fantastic, since they were going to have a lot on their plates. But sometimes, as she had a penchant for doing, she got a little overzealous. So, they had sent her off on special 'missions', the current one of which was deciding on flowers. Of course, all final decisions went through them, but Garcia had an eye for that kind of thing and she was more than happy coming up with pretty flower arrangements.

But, she still liked to call them at least once a day to update them on how her mission was going. Emily, for her part, had heard more about flowers in that one hour phone call than ever before in her life. And she was thanking God that Garcia had offered to help because she certainly wouldn't have had the patience to listen to the long version of that conversation.

Momentarily, a look of panic flashed across Morgan's face. But he instantly disguised it. "It's worth it knowing that it's all leading up to having you in my life forever." She smiled brightly and leaned in to kiss him. Pulling away, he added slyly, "But, you know, it's not too late to just run away to Vegas..."

She rolled her eyes. "You know very well that that would be the shortest marriage in history because Garcia would hunt us down and kill us."

He laughed, "True enough." But he pressed on anyway, "Just think about it... We could take all the time we'll save as our honeymoon..."

She rolled her eyes again. "What's the big deal about the honeymoon? We're having sex already..."

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Saved by the bell," Morgan chuckled, going to answer it. Several seconds later, he called back down the hall for Emily. He smiled awkwardly at the man in front of him, sincerely hoping that their voices hadn't carried during the previous conversation.

He heard Emily stop several feet away, almost able to sense her suddenly stiffen, tension crackling through the air. "Daddy?"

"Emily, honey," he started to greet.

But she brusquely interrupted, "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you were getting married..." He shot a look half-way between a smile and a glare at Morgan.

"How did you hear that?" Emily asked pointedly. She had specifically seen to it that he wasn't invited; having all their issues dragged back through their life, especially now, was not worth having her father walk her down the aisle.

"Your mother is exceedingly happy for you," he replied as if that explained it, "She tells anyone who will listen that you're finally getting married. Word gets around in her circles..."

She should have known. Sighing and shaking her head, she repeated, "So, why are you here? Surely you got the hint when you weren't invited..."

He faltered for a moment, "I thought, maybe..."

"There was no mistake. Consider the fact that I don't even know how to get ahold of you if I had wanted. That's what happens when you cut your daughter out of your life without so much as a second thought, a backward glance... A goodbye..."

Morgan could do nothing but watch the whole exchange in stunned silence. He had never seen Emily lash out like that. And, while he knew that the topic of her father was a bit of a sore spot, he had no idea the wounds ran so deep...

"Now, if you'll excuse me," she said dismissively, "I'm very busy planning a wedding, I don't have time to waste on fake apologies and excuses."

She rather forcefully slammed the door behind his retreating form before leaning heavily against it, burying her head in her hands, cursing under her breath.

He wasn't sure whether she was upset or angry at the moment, but either way, he gently pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Everything will work out alright, don't worry."

But he couldn't help but think that life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated...

* * *

**Well, as you can see, ArwenLalaith wrote this chapter and I've got the next chapter covered, but we won't be writing the future chapters. YOU WILL!**

**You know how sometimes it's easier to start a story then it is to finish it... ArwenLalaith and I felt the same way. And thus, the birth of this idea... The 'assembly line story'.**

**Basically, you write one chapter and pass the torch to someone else; that way, you get the development of a multi-chapter with the work of a one-shot. So, anyone who would like to participate is more than welcome to! Let us know if you're interested to be a part of this story. Write the next chapter in the series and send it to either ArwenLalaith or I and we will add it on (without changing anything, of course). First come, first serve. Oh, and remember: one chapter per person only!**

**Have fun writing! Oh, before you leave, leave us a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

_CHAPTER TWO_

Despite the hustle and bustle that made the small café resemble midtown during rush hour, the silence between these two men were deafening and really awkward. They sat opposite each other for a couple minutes now, other than the brief greetings and introductions earlier, no one had said anything else. The older man eyed the younger man intently, almost with a little bit of anger, like he had stolen something precious from him.

Technically, he did.

This man was about to marry his daughter; the most valuable thing to him. He was more than a little upset when he heard Emily was getting married, but he was not invited to her wedding. He only had himself to blame. After all, he was the one who abandoned her; the dumbest thing Joe Prentiss had ever done in his entire life.

Sighing sadly, he began, "How's Emily?"

"She's fine now," Morgan replied evenly. Looking out of the window for a moment, Morgan turned back to his future father-in-law; he wasn't sure if this man was going to be his father-in-law, because Emily no longer considered him her father. "Why did you want to see me?"

"I need a favour from you. I want to try to have a relationship with Emily again."

"I'm sorry, I can't help you there," Morgan shook his head sadly, "She doesn't even want to see you."

"Please," Joe begged, "I want to be a father to her again."

"Shouldn't have left her in the first place," Derek muttered under his breath. He sighed, "Why now? Of all the times, you could have looked her up... Is it because we're getting married and you figured that she'd be so happy, she'd forgive you in an instant?"

"No, not that." Joe stared at the mug placed in front of him and sighed again. "I can't tell you."

"I can't help you if you don't give me a good reason to."

"You don't understand..."

"Hell, I don't understand!" Morgan glared at the older man. "I don't understand how you could have abandoned your own daughter. I don't understand how you could have let her grow up without a father. And I sure don't understand how a brief conversation with you could cause her so much pain."

Joe watched his expression change from incredulity to resentment and even anger. "Did you know she cried herself to sleep last night?" he hissed, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, like the clap of thunder warning of an impending storm. "We're planning our wedding. This was supposed to be the happiest time of her life. She shouldn't be crying. Brides-to-be aren't supposed to cry themselves to sleep."

There was long, tensed moment of silence between them before Derek figured he had enough of it. He didn't even know why he agreed to meet up with him behind Emily's back. Checking his watch, he sighed. "I should go. Emily's going wake up soon."

"I have cancer," Joe said abruptly.

"What?" Morgan eyed him carefully, unsure if it was a scheme to get him to help.

Pushing his medical statement to Morgan, Joe continued, "I don't know how much time I have left. I just want to get my daughter back before it's too late for me."

He took the sheets and was silent as he attempted to decipher them. "I..."

"Don't tell her."

"You... You don't her to know?"

"No. Not now. Look," he took a deep breath, attempting to keep his emotions in check, "Leaving her, was the hardest thing I ever had to do. If I could go back in time, I'd never do it. I can't change the past, all I can do right now, is try to make it up to her before I die. I know I don't deserve your help, but please, you have to help me. This is my last chance..."

After another long and awkward silence, Morgan spoke up, "She likes waffles for breakfast. With strawberries and chocolate."

* * *

**You know, reviews really make my day (:  
**


	3. Chapter 3

_CHAPTER THREE_

Emily woke up in a cold sweat, her breathing heavy. She blinked a couple of times as it took her a moment to focus her scattered mind. Everything was quiet, the only sound she heard was her own deep breathing. She rubbed her hands over her face, trying to shake the feeling the nightmare had left. Glancing over at the empty spot on the bed, she wondered where Derek was. He never woke up before seven if he didn't have to; he always said that God never meant for people to wake up early, thus the term 'ungodly hour'.

She slipped her feet into her slippers as she grabbed her bathrobe, wrapping it tightly around her body before walking out of the bedroom. She padded down the hall to the kitchen, searching for her fiancé, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Where did he go?" she mumbled to herself as she started the coffee maker. While waiting for the coffee, her mind drifted back to her nightmare, leading her to think that Morgan might have left her.

"No!" Shaking her head to rid the negative thoughts, she chastized herself for doubting him. "He wouldn't do that."

And, as if on cue, the door swung open, revealing a surprised Morgan. "What are you doing up so early?" he smiled, "I thought you'd still be sleeping."

"Where did you go?"

"I got you breakfast. It's your favourite." Then, he realized that something seemed wrong; Emily seemed uncertain and scared. Setting the paper bag on the table, he wrapped his arms around her, hoping to provide some comfort. "Is everything okay, Em?" She didn't say anything, merely holding him tighter. "Emily?"

"I'm fine." Feigning a smile, she moved out of his embrace and said, "I'll go wash up and join you for breakfast."

He stopped her, pulling her back into his arms. "You're not fine. What is it?"

"It's nothing. I just had a nightmare."

"What was it about?" he asked softly.

"It's stupid."

"Tell me," Derek insisted, rubbing her back soothingly.

Emily sighed; she knew he wouldn't give up until she told him. "It was about him, my dad. I was ten when he left. One day, I saw him packing his bags and I asked him where he was going. He said he had to leave and probably wouldn't be back for awhile. I begged him not to go, but he said he couldn't stay. I told him to take me with him; obviously, he didn't," she recalled sadly, tears springing to her eyes.

"He promised he'd call and he just left... Without so much as a goodbye or even a second glance. He just walked out. And everyday I waited by the phone for his call. It never came... I never saw or heard from him again, until yesterday. Then, I dreamt that you left too..." Emily looked at Morgan apologetically, "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? It was just a dream."

"When I woke up and you weren't there, I thought you..."

"You thought I left you." She nodded and he sighed, slipping a finger under her chin to look into her eyes. "Look at me, Em. I know I've done stupid things, and I know sometimes I act like an idiot, but I'll never be dumb enough to leave you."

"I know, that's why it's so stupid. I shouldn't be getting this worked up over it. I don't even know why I had that stupid dream."

"It's not stupid," he argued lightly. "You probably dreamed it because you saw him yesterday,"

"Probably."

"I love you and I will never leave you." Morgan kissed the top of her head, burying his face in her hair. "You smell nice. Like strawberries. I like it."

A small smile tugged on the corner of Emily's lips. She was glad for the change in their conversation.

"Speaking of which, you have waffles with chocolate and strawberries waiting for you."

"You got up early just to get me breakfast?" He nodded and she smiled, "You know, you don't have to do that. I already agreed to marry you."

******

"I think maybe you should consider meeting with your father..." Morgan blurted out suddenly.

Emily looked up sharply from where they were attempting to work out the seating arrangements for the reception dinner. "What?"

The look in her eyes startled him slightly, a combination of anger and sadness that he'd never seen before. "I'm not saying you should just forgive and forget," he explained gently, "But this is a chance for you to get some closure, some answers..."

Hesitation was written across her face. "I don't know..."

"I can't tell you the right way to deal with this," he said softly, "But there's just something telling me that you should at least see him once more..."

"I don't know if I _can_," she whispered, "You have no idea what almost thirty years of bottled up anger and resentment do to a person..."

"That's why you deserve some answers, you're entitled to get an explaination as to why the one person who should always have been there for you just out of the blue walked away."

The slight sheen to her eyes, the way she began fidgeting anxiously, told him that she was really struggling. "I don't know, Derek."

"Come here," he said, pulling her onto his lap. "It's okay, baby. If you really don't want to see him again, then don't do it. I just thought you might like to get answers and maybe closure. But you know what I really want for you?"

"What?"

Kissing her forehead softly, he whispered, "I really want you to mend your relationship with your dad; if that is even possible. I want you to have a father again. And hopefully, our kids can have their grandpa to spoil them..."

"You're trying to coax me into meeting him..." Emily said, matter of factly.

Morgan chuckled, "Maybe. But ultimately, if you don't want to see him again, I will respect your decision. I just want you to be happy."

"Sometimes, I think you're too good for me."

"I love you," he smiled.

"I love you too." She smiled and brought their lips together. Before they could get very far, the phone rang.

Derek groaned, but smiled when he answered the phone. "Hi, mama... What's up?"

"_Hi, gorgeous, always nice to talk to you, but I'm looking for Emily today. Where is she?"_ Garcia asked excitedly; her excitement seemed to grow as the couple's big day came ever closer.

"Emily?" He looked over at Emily who shook her head. She didn't feel like talking to anyone but Derek at the moment. "She's in the bathroom,"he lied.

"_You're so cute when you lie through your teeth,"_ the blond tech grinned. _"Come on, tell me the truth."_

Morgan sighed dramatically and changed his story,"She's napping... We, uh, had a late night..." It wasn't exactly a lie, part of it was true...Emily had cried for a long time before falling asleep.

"_You guys are hopeless,"_ she muttered. _"Wake her up soon, okay? We're supposed to pick out her wedding dress in about an hour. And before you say anything, you can't come. It's bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress before the actual wedding."

* * *

_**  
We know we said this was supposed to an 'assembly line story', where anyone who is interested can participate and write a chapter, but because the response wasn't great and waiting for others didn't really work. So, ArwenLalaith and I decided to finish this story on our own.**

**Sorry for the long wait, but fear not, we're working on the later chapters furiously. Hope you liked it. And please don't forget to leave us a review. We'd love to know what you think.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

_CHAPTER FOUR_

"Oh, you look _so_ pretty!" Garcia gushed.

Emily stood in front of the full-length mirror, smiling brightly in spite of her earlier gloomy mood, as she examined the dress from all angles. In the midst of all the newly emerging drama, she had completely forgotten about the plans to go dress shopping that day; which had meant a hurried attempt to package away all the excess emotions, not wanting to have to talk about it. Besides, there were more important matters at hand than her daddy issues, picking a wedding dress was an important decision. "Other opinions?" she asked, turning to her mother and JJ.

"It's gorgeous," JJ agreed, "You look like a princess."

"Better or worse than the last one?" Emily quizzed.

With happy tears sparkling in her eyes, the Ambassador said, "It's perfect."

Twirling slightly, the beaded designs glinting in the bright light, Emily bit the inside of her cheek contemplatively before smiling again. "I think this one might be the one..."

"I'm so happy for you!" Garcia chirped brightly, "And I think Morgan is really going to like it..."

"He'd like anything I picked..." she said softly.

******

It was just by chance... He happened to be walking down the street and passed a little bridal shop, glancing at it off-handedly, feeling a momentary pang knowing his daughter was probably frequenting such boutiques right about now. He hadn't expected her to be at that one at that moment though.

Realizing that she was trying on her wedding dress, he risked another glance, knowing this might be the only chance he got to see her in her dress. He watched as she twirled before the mirror before hugging her two friends and her mother tightly, the entire time smiling radiantly. She looked absolutely stunning and he felt his heart break a little at the obvious happiness of which he was not a part.

He almost wanted to break down to tears right there in the middle of the sidewalk. His precious little baby girl, his Emily, getting ready to walk down the aisle, to be someone else's... And she wouldn't even give him the time of day, wouldn't have anything to do with him.

He watched as his former wife handed Emily a veil he recognized as being the one she had worn at their own wedding, which just broke his heart even more. A family moment that he had to watch as an outsider, an intruder, only further emphasizing what a huge mistake he had made all those years ago.

******

"So, you picked out the perfect dress for our perfect day?" Morgan asked quietly as he held her tightly, waiting for sleep to overtake them, hoping to distract her from thinking about her father. He didn't want her to cry herself to sleep again.

"Yes," she said softly, "It's the dress I always dreamed of... And I'm going to wear Mother's veil." He could her from her voice that she was smiling and it warmed his heart.

"I can't wait to see it."

"Don't get any ideas..." she reprimanded gently, "The big day will be here before you know it."

"I can't wait," he repeated.

"Speaking of which," she added, her mind suddenly burdened with everything that still had to be done before the day arrived, "You need to call your sisters, they need to get fitted for their bridesmaid dresses. And you need to round up your groomsmen and get them fitted for tuxes; the ties need to be purple..."

He laughed, "Slow down there, girl; we've still got time."

"If only you knew how much we still have to get done..."

"It'll get done," he assured, "We've got a little army of eager helpers just waiting for us to ask; Garcia, JJ, my mom, your mom... And I'll do anything you ask me to, I know how stressful everything can be." She kissed him gently, a silent thanks; he felt rather pleased with himself, it seemed that he had quite successfully kept her mind off her father.

Then, as if reading his mind, she whispered, "I think maybe you were right..."

"Well, I usually am," he joked, "But about what in particular?"

"I think maybe I should agree to meet with my father..."

"Oh, really?" he asked hesitantly, knowing this conversation could take either of two roads.

She nodded slowly as if still unsure about her decision. "He's got the answers I've been waiting to get and perhaps there's a chance we could let bygones be bygones. I need someone to walk me down the aisle... Our future kids deserve at least one grandfather..."

"Those are all very good reasons," he murmured his assent, "Just as long as you're doing it for yourself first and foremost."

"I think I owe it to myself... And he certainly owes it to me."

"I couldn't agree more." Then, attempting to once again redirect her attention, he said softly, "Now, tell me more about these future kids of ours..."


	5. Chapter 5

_CHAPTER FIVE_

Joe Prentiss felt like he was walking in air. It had been such a long time since he felt so light-hearted, so happy. His daughter had finally agreed to meet up with him. Ignoring the pain in his abdomen, he walked quickly to the little café where Emily was waiting. Wiping away the beads of sweat accumulated on his forehead, he entered the café and immediately found where Emily and Derek were. He wasn't surprised that her fiancé was there with her.

The couple stood up as he approached. "Hello," Joe smiled.

"Hi."

After a few awkward moments, the older man spoke up again. "How are the wedding preparations going?"

"Good," Emily replied, "We've got everything under control. I got my wedding dress yesterday."

"That's good," Joe said genuinely, "I'm really happy for you."

"Thank you," she smiled tightly. "But I'm not here to talk about my wedding. I came to get answers. I don't know if I can forgive and forget, but I want to try. I believe my future kids deserve to have their grandfather."

Morgan smiled softly and gently squeezed her hand. He was glad she had finally agreed to talk to her father. It wasn't exactly a friendly conversation, but it was a start.

"You're willing to let me see your future children? My grandchildren?" Joe asked, happy tears shining in his eyes.

"If things work out, yes, I'd like that to happen."

"Thank you," he replied happily, "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Joe thought if he were to drop dead that instant, he'd leave this world happily. It may not be a big step towards an amazing father-daughter relationship, but it was better than nothing, better than Emily ignoring him completely. He looked at Morgan for a moment and gave him a small smile, silently thanking him for his help. If not for him, Emily would never have agreed to meet him, much less agree to mend their relationship.

He was so excited to have the chance to mend his relationship with Emily that he was willing to tell her everything she wanted to know, even if it made him look bad; she deserved the truth. But his body had other ideas. The dull ache in his abdomen had intensified ten-fold and it was becoming really unbearable. Joe tried pretend it wasn't affecting him, but obviously it was not working because his daughter and her fiancé were by his side in a second. And before he could tell them it was nothing, he collapsed.

But before he completely lost consciousness, he felt Emily holding his hand and he heard her call him 'Daddy' again. That was good enough for him...

******

"What's going on?" Emily demanded, accosting one of the nurses assigned to her father's care, "No one's told us anything!"

The nurse looked uncomfortable for a moment, but quickly mastered it. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm not qualified to give out details about the patient's condition; you'll have to wait for a doctor."

Emily huffed out an annoyed breath, rounding instead on Morgan. "Why won't they tell us what's happening?" she asked desperately, her eyes glinting with tears.

"I'm sure they're just busy," he placated gently, reaching out for her hand to pull her down next to him, trying to get her to stop pacing as she had been doing for the last twenty minutes. At least, he hoped the reason none of the doctors had spoken to them yet was because it was a busy night and not because they were scrambling to do tests to explain the sudden worsening of her father's condition. "The ER is pretty packed," he reasoned, "The doctors already knew he has cancer, so they can just start him on medication and take care of other patients in the mean-time."

He didn't realize his mistake until he felt Emily tense, his words slowly being absorbed. "What?" she said after a long awkward pause, still a little stunned, "He... He has cancer?"

"Emily..." he said softly, rushing to explain.

She didn't give him the chance, quickly standing from where she had been leaning into his comforting embrace and interrupting, "And you knew about this?"

"Emily, calm down," he soothed, "I can explain..."

"How could you not tell me?" she demanded, hurt written across her face, tears finally spilling over.

"He asked me not to. I wanted to tell you, I really did; but I think he wanted you to agree to reconcile with him because you genuinely wanted to, not because you thought he was dying or out of pity..."

"And you did what he, the man who abandoned me, asked, instead of telling me, your soon-to-be wife?"

He felt like he had been stabbed in the heart, seeing the pain, the sadness, the betrayal in her eyes. "I'm so sorry," he said gently, "But it really wasn't my place to tell."

She anxiously scrubbed a hand through her hair, shielding her eyes momentarily with her other hand. Taking a deep breath, she changed subjects, "Now that the cat's out of the bag, what kind of cancer? How bad is it?" But he could see that she was still angry that he had withheld such a big secret from her.

"I really don't know... But it seemed to me that he was trying to make amends while he had the chance..." As much as he wanted to hold her close and dry her tears, he knew better than to try while the wounds of betrayal were still so fresh.

"I... I need to get some air," she said finally, flustered, wiping away her tears with the heel of her hand.

He watched her as she hurriedly left the waiting room, desperately hoping that he hadn't inadvertently ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him...


	6. Chapter 6

_CHAPTER SIX_

Emily sat by her father's bed side, silently watching him, praying that he would wake up soon. As she watched her father sleeping, she realized how much older he had become. The wrinkles on his face that weren't there before, his hair had turned from a dark brown, almost black, to grey. It seemed so juxtaposing to the infallible man she could barely remember.

She snapped out of her thoughts when he stirred. "How are you feeling?" she asked, concerned.

"Tired," he said softly.

"The doctors said you're going to be fine, with a slight change to your medication."

"That's always nice to know," he joked. "Where's Derek?" he asked, looking around, "Shouldn't he be here with you?"

"I told him to go home first." Emily wanted to leave the questions for another day, but she couldn't hold it in anymore. "Why didn't you tell me? I'm your daughter; why did I have to hear about your condition from him?"

"I didn't want you to forgive me because I was sick. I didn't want you think that I was trying to make it up to you because I might not live to see another day. Are you mad at him?"

"Yes. Very."

"Don't be," Joe urged, "He just did what I told him to. Actually, I guilted him into it. I asked him to do grant this dying man a wish... He wanted to tell you."

"He looks tough, but he's really just a big softie. And a bit of a pushover," she commented.

"I can tell he loves you a lot."

"He does," Emily answered, her voice breaking.

"Do you love him?"

"More than anything," she whispered.

Then he smiled gently, reaching out to take one of Emily's hands in his. "Go home. He must be really anxious. And don't blame him. It wasn't his fault."

She nodded and squeezed his hand. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

******

Morgan stared at the TV, not paying any attention to whatever was on that night. Emily had told him to go home first, saying that she would go home after her dad woke up. He wanted to stay with her, to be there for her, but figured she might need some time alone to think.

He stood up when he heard the jingle of keys on the other side of the door, hoping she wasn't still angry, that she didn't want to call off the wedding...

"Hey." Emily moved to sit on the couch.

"Hey. How is he?"

"He's doing okay."

"That's good."

They sat in silence for a while, not knowing what to say. "I wanted to tell you," Derek said abruptly when the silence became too much, "I'm sorry."

Emily felt her heart break a little when she saw the remorse and fear in his eyes. He was the fearless FBI agent who tackled unsubs and kicked down doors with one single kick, yet he was afraid of what she would say next. He always said that she was the only one who could bring him down to his knees. She didn't know what to say. So, she did the only thing she could to let him know everything was fine between them. Swinging one leg over his lap and moved to sit on his thighs as she wrapped her arms around him, bringing him as close to her as possible.

If she was honest with herself, she needed a little comfort from him too, so much had happened in such a short period of time; her long-lost father showed up at her doorstep after almost thirty years, two days ago and today, she found out that he had cancer. It was going to take time for her accept it all.

"Emily?"

"It's okay," she whispered, "We're okay." Emily shifted to look Derek in his eyes. "He told me what happened. I know he guilted you into it."

"Yeah," he said, "He told me this is his last chance to make it up to you and if I don't help him, no one will. I didn't have the heart to say no."

"You're a softie, you know that?"

"I know," he smiled. "You're not mad at me anymore?"

"No. I shouldn't have been angry with you in the first place," Emily said softly, "I should have let you explain yourself."

Morgan shook his head and decided that they needed a change of subject. "It's late. Why don't you go take a shower and we can head to bed? You're going to see your dad tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. The doctors said that they'll keep him under observation for tonight; if everything goes well, they'll let him go home tomorrow."

"What is it?" he asked, sensing that she was still a little upset about something.

"I... I don't want to hate him, but I can't help but still be mad at him," she sighed, "What if he never had cancer? Does that mean he would never have come back? Did he only remember me because he might die? Am I that unimportant?"

"You're not unimportant," Derek insisted, tightening his arms around her. "But I don't have all the answers," he added apologetically.

Emily took a deep breath, as if to keep her emotions in check. "You know what, you're right. It's late. We should probably head to bed now. Our wedding photographer is meeting with us tomorrow."

"Don't do that," he said, his arms still wrapped tightly around her, keeping her close. "Don't compartmentalize. You don't have to do that when we're together. If you feel like crying, then cry on my shoulder. If you want to hit someone, then I'll be your punching bag. You spent half your life compartmentalizing, I don't want you to have to do that ever again. Not when we're together," he added.

"It's not fair of me to burden you with all this..."

"It's not a burden," he insisted, "I _want _to bear it. You're going to be my wife, for better or worse; please, let me help you through this."

She was silent for a moment, seemingly in contemplation. Then, she hugged him a little tighter and he felt the first sob wrack her body.


	7. Chapter 7

_CHAPTER SEVEN_

Morgan and Emily sat at a table of a cosy little restaurant waiting patiently for Ambassador Prentiss to arrive; she had asked to meet them, though neither of them knew why. They were guessing she wanted to know how the wedding preparations were coming along. Emily had never seen her mother so enthusiastic about her affairs before... And lately, she found herself wondering how different things would be if her father had never left.

Morgan must have heard her sigh because he immediately pulled her into his arms. "Is everything okay, honey?"

Emily smiled and kissed him gently. "I'm okay. I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"Should I let Mother know about Dad?"

Morgan thought for a moment. "I think you should. You don't want her to go into shock when she sees your dad at the wedding... I'm assuming you're inviting your dad to our wedding, now that you're back on speaking terms."

"I want to," she replied. She squeezed his hand gently, thanking him for being so understanding. Then, glancing towards the doors and seeing the Ambassador, she informed, "She's here."

"Finally," Morgan grinned, "I'm starving."

"You're always hungry," she giggled softly.

It was good to hear her laugh. He knew she hadn't been doing well since her father showed up, even less so upon finding out that he had cancer. He pulled her close, gently kissing her temple. "It's good to hear you laugh. It's been too long," he whispered before her mother came to the table.

******

After their meal and a bout of small talk, the Ambassador went straight to the point. "You must be wondering why I wanted to see the both of you." They nodded and she continued, "I have a gift for you. It's not a lot, but I think you'll like it." She pushed an envelope towards them. "It's tickets to a two-week Caribbean cruise. For your honeymoon."

"You didn't have to," Emily said softly.

"I wanted to," she smiled, "It's the least I could do for you. Although... I expect something from you in return...."

"And what is that?" Morgan asked; partly because he was curious and partly because he might want to return the gift if there were too many strings attached.

"I want grandchildren."

Her answer stunned the couple for a moment. Then, they both laughed and Morgan shook his head, "You've been spending way too much time with my mom."

Ambassador Prentiss smiled, "She's right. We're not getting any younger and I don't know how much longer I can live."

"Don't be ridiculous," Emily said airily, "You're like Castro, we'll never get rid of you..." Her jovial smile made it clear that she was only joking. "Thank you for the gift." There was a momentary lull in the conversation, during which she seemed to decide that that was as good a time as any to break the news. "I have something to tell you... Dad's back..."

"Dad?" the Ambassador asked, "You mean Joe? You've met him?"

They nodded and Morgan squeezed Emily's hand, encouraging her to continue. "And he's in the hospital. He has cancer..."

******

Since Joe Prentiss awoke that morning, he had been waiting patiently for his daughter to walk through the door. He smiled happily as he recalled the events of the day before. There was light at the end of the tunnel; Emily had finally began to accept him and had even agreed to come see him again. He couldn't help but think that, as strange as it might seem, being diagnosed with cancer might just have been the best thing that had ever happened to him... after Emily.

"Hi," he smiled brightly when Emily and Morgan walked in to his room hand-in-hand.

"Hi," Emily returned with a tight smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

Morgan nodded and smiled, "That's good. We've talked to the doctors; they said you're doing okay and you can go home today."

"Good," he let out a sigh of relief, "I hate hospitals."

They chuckled softly. "Just like you," Morgan whispered to Emily, nudging her lightly with his elbow.

Emily rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her father. "There's someone who wants to see you."

"Really?" He seemed rather confused as he wrecked his brain trying to think who it might be.

"Hello, Joseph," the Ambassador said coolly as she entered the room.

"Hello, Elizabeth," Joe returned.

"Emily, Derek; why don't you go fill out the release papers? I need to talk to him in private." The nodded, giving the two their privacy.

Once they were alone, an awkward silence slowly leached into the room. Joe finally spoke up when the silence became too much for him, "It's been a long time. How are you?"

"I'm fine," she replied distantly. "I'm not going to beat around the bush. As you know, Emily's getting married; I want to make this perfect for her..."

"So, what are you proposing?"

"For her sake, we need to attempt to be civil to each other when we're with her," she answered. "I don't want her to be upset. She has already cried more than enough."

He nodded, fully aware that she was shouldering him with at least some of that blame. "I'll do anything for her... I've got a lot to make up for while I still can."


	8. Chapter 8

_CHAPTER EIGHT_

Even though they'd been preparing for months and they'd practically had to beat back all the willing helpers with a stick, as the big day grew closer, Emily inevitably found herself growing more and more overwhelmed at the prospect of just how much still needed to be done. It seemed like the more they crossed off the list, the longer it seemed to grow.

Bridesmaid dresses were waiting on alterations. Tuxedos, particularly Reid's, seemed to be actively resisting all humanly possible attempts to make them fit properly. Of course, the hall still needed to be decorated. They hadn't yet heard the various toasts, which would all needed to be censored, knowing their friends and family. Seating arrangements needed to be finalized. The priest seemed to have fallen off the face of the Earth. And that was just for starters... Her mounting sense of anxiety was understandable.

And, no matter how many times Morgan assured her that everything was going to get done in time, she never really seemed to believe it. He was sure that it was at least partially due to her father's unexpected appearance turning her world upside down and adding stress to her life.

But for the moment, all things besides wedding preparations were forgotten as they tackled the next thing on the list: deciding on the cake. They had brought along a few helpers for their second opinions, knowing they would probably spend hours agonizing over the decision otherwise.

Garcia had spent a good hour or two explaining to them how the wedding cake was much more than just a cake...it was a symbol of prosperity, fertility, faithfulness, happiness, and their future together. It was a symbolic consummation of the marriage... Clearly, it required much more thought than either of them had realized, thinking it was just a very expensive dessert...

"Why does it seem like everything to do with the wedding is a symbol for something else? Nothing is just face value..." Morgan sighed as they waited outside the little pâtisserie for the others to show up, "So much pomp and circumstance..."

Emily laughed softly, "What did you think the wedding was going to entail? It's just a fancy exchange of property..."

"That doesn't sound very romantic," he said, crinkling his nose, "Then why are we doing it?"

"Because we want to show the world just how much we love each other," she supplied, smiling brightly.

"Oh, right..." he said jokingly, as if having forgotten. She swatted him playfully on the shoulder before leaning in to kiss him softly.

A few seconds later, Garcia came rushing up with a sheaf of papers cradled in her arms, immediately accosting the couple and flipping through the papers searching for one in particular. JJ followed shortly after, laughing. "Sorry you gave her so much power yet?" she asked light-heartedly.

They didn't have a spare second to answer, attempting to absorb the mile-a-minute stream of information Garcia was spouting. "...Make sure they will deliver and set up the cake; otherwise, you're just asking for a big headache and you risk pissing off your caterer. And make sure you get _everything _in writing so there's no confusion later; exactly what kind of cake you want and how you want it to look, the exact cost of everything, and the specific date, time, and location of the reception. There is no room for error..."

"Okay, calm down, Mussolini," JJ chuckled, "It's not like we're preforming open-heart surgery..." Garcia shot her an annoyed look over having interrupted her tirade.

But before either could say anything further, Morgan shepherded them both inside. "Let's get this party started, ladies; our mothers are waiting for us and if we don't start making decisions, there won't be any left for us to make..."

******

The baker, Jacqués, was a loveable old Frenchman, the complete stereotype one would expect from a Parisian baker. And he was the best in the tri-state area. Luckily, the Ambassador had a few strategic connections and had made sure that he would have time to prepare their cake.

With more grace than one would expect from someone of his stature, he swept easily around the table with samples of different kinds of cake and icings. As they sampled various versions of vanilla cakes and some of the more unusual flavours, they flipped through his many albums with photos of various cakes made over the years.

"What about something like this one?" JJ suggested, passing one of the pictures across to Emily.

Emily frowned, "I'm not sure... I'm not really a big fan of the awkward shape, I want something..." She cut herself off when she took a bite of the cake Jacqués had just set in front of her and immediately pulled a face.

"What kind was that?" Garcia asked, laughing at her disgusted expression.

"Banana walnut," Morgan read off the rim of the plate, gently clapping a hand on Emily's back as she gave a few spluttering coughs.

Garcia promptly crossed the name off her list. "I'll take that as a no."

"As I was saying," Emily began again, "I think the square cakes are nicer."

"I agree," the Ambassador chimed in, "Circular cakes are rather cliché."

"Em, you've gotta taste this," Morgan insisted, holding out a finger with a dab of frosting, "Lemon cream cheese..."

"Excellent choice, monsier," Jacqués supplied, "Zat go very well wiz ze vanilla or ze citrus cakes."

Emily shut her eyes as she sucked the icing off his finger. "That is good," she murmured softly, "I think that one's the best so far."

"Don't forget that the frosting flavour has to go with the cake flavour," Garcia reminded. Then, she added, "You know, I'm not usually a big fan of carrot cake, but this one isn't half bad."

"It's not a hippy wedding," JJ scoffed. She added her two cents, "I like the cherry or the strawberry; the pink tinge it adds to the cake is really pretty."

"Don't you think it would be better to go with something more traditional?" the Ambassador asked, "Vanilla is a much more appropriate choice."

"Nobody will even see the inside of the cake until they eat it and then all they're going to care about is what it tastes like, that's what they're going to remember," Garcia pointed out logically.

Mrs. Morgan who, until now had been rather quiet, only offering her opinion when they asked, now reasoned, "You need to choose what you're going to be happy with, it's _your _wedding."

"You might also want to think about nut allergies... A lot of people might not be able to eat the cake if you go with some of these flavours," JJ said.

"You need to choose a design," the Ambassador prompted, "Because certain types of cake won't be able to withstand the additional weight of the decorations."

"What kind of designs were you zinking of for ze icing?" Jacqués asked bustling around, "We can do ze pattern of ze lace on ze dress or sugar flowers to match ze bouquet... We can do most anyzing you ask."

Emily gave a forced smile. "We're not really sure what we want yet, to be honest," she said apologetically.

"What about _color_ of the icing?" Garcia added, "White or shades of off-white are the norm, but it might be nice to go off script and pick a shade of purple to match the color of the wedding party."

"I really think you should go with white," the Ambassador said, "It's much more proper."

Emily bit at her lip. "Okay, could you all please just _stop_ for a second..." she demanded weakly.

"Em, honey, what's wrong?" Morgan asked gently, placing a comforting hand on her back.

"I can't... It's just...it's too much," she sighed, "I need to get some air." She quickly left the cozy little bakery, flustered, trying not to cry.

Waiting until the bell on the door tinkled as it shut behind her, Morgan turned to the others and scolded, "We asked you guys to come along to _help _us and you're just making things worse. She is under so much stress already, she doesn't need you all arguing and adding to the problem. You need to either start cooperating or just leave. This is _our _wedding..."

******

Emily sighed as she felt someone sit next to her on the little bench outside the bakery. She had known that Morgan would come after her to attempt to talk her down from the proverbial ledge. She purposefully avoided making eye-contact, determinedly staring straight ahead pensively, worried that she might break down otherwise. However, upon hearing the voice that was most definitely not Morgan's, she looked up sharply.

"So," Mrs. Morgan said nonchalantly, "How much of this is really about the arguing and how much is about your dad?"

She wasn't surprised that Morgan had told his mother about all the turmoil that was going on in their lives, knowing how close they were; she didn't mind, Mrs. Morgan was the kind of mother she had always wished she had, the kind you could talk about your problems with. But still, she wasn't entirely sure how comfortable she was discussing her family drama with her fiancé's mother. Instead, she lamented, "Why does everything have to be so hard? Why can't anything just once, just for one second, be easy?"

Mrs. Morgan reached out to hold her hand. "That's like asking how you hit all the red traffic lights when you're running late or why the bread always lands buttered-side down... You'll never get an answer and you'll drive yourself crazy trying to find one."

"And, of course, everything has to happen at once, we couldn't possibly just have everything stay perfect for even a day..." Despite her apprehension, as she spoke, she soon found everything gushing forth before she could stop it, spilling all her pent up misfortunes. "I'm still upset with my father for leaving, but how am I supposed to stay angry when he's dying of cancer? And I don't really have time to work through all our issues to reach a point where I might actually be able to forgive him since he had to show up _now_, of all times, while I have like seven hundred things that still need to be done before the wedding..."

"No one expects you forgive a lifetime of abandonment in a heartbeat and certainly no one expects you to deal with everything right now, all alone. You know, you can always just postpone the wedding, Derek would understand..."

"No," Emily said resolutely, "I really want to be married, I... It would just be nice if the universe could just once throw me a bone... You know?"

The older woman smiled, "Believe me, I know..." Gently, she urged, "Perhaps we should go back inside... When I left, Derek was reading everyone the riot act. He's probably started to worry now."

Emily sighed, "He's too good to me..."


	9. Chapter 9

_CHAPTER NINE_

When Emily woke up the morning after the disastrous cake tasting session, she felt even less sure that they'd be able to get everything done in time. She didn't want to postpone the wedding, she wanted to marry Morgan as soon as she could, but from the looks of it, they might not have any choice... Days like these always made her regret not agreeing to elope to Vegas with him.

After she ran out of the bakery yesterday, Morgan had read everyone the riot act; even going so far as to tell their so-called helpers to just leave if all they were going to do was to insist on what they wanted instead of considering what would make Emily happy. After all, she was the bride, the one who was supposed to get everything she wanted.

It was times like that that made her feel extremely blessed to have someone like him in her life.

Reaching over to hold him, Emily found that he wasn't there; instead, there was a long-stemmed red rose in his place. She remembered that he once told her, in the world of flowers, a single red rose means 'you're the only one for me'. Smiling happily, she picked up the rose and suddenly wished that he was right here with her so she could give him a big kiss for being the sweetest man alive.

As she sat up, Morgan came into the room with a tray full of pancakes, syrup, coffee, and strawberries, as if on cue. He grinned when he saw that she was already awake. "Good morning," he said brightly, "I knew you'd wake up about now. Breakfast's ready."

"You're spoiling me," Emily playfully reprimanded.

"And that's a problem?"

******

Emily held Morgan's hand as they walked aimlessly through the park near their apartment after breakfast. He had insisted that they needed to go for a walk, they needed the fresh air to clear their heads. He was right; they had been so busy with the wedding preparations and her daddy issues that they hadn't had a lot of time to unwind. Despite his good intentions and the fact that he was right, as much as she was trying to relax, she used the comfortable silence to mentally list everything they still had to get done before the wedding.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said quietly.

She shrugged, "Just checking what we have to do before the wedding... The tuxes aren't done yet, the venue still needs decorating, we still have to complete the seating arrangement..."

"The tuxes are done."

"What? When?"

"Last night," Morgan shrugged, "They called me while you were playing phone-tag with the priest. I told Reid, Rossi, and Hotch to go in for a final fitting today." Checking his watch, he continued, "They're probably there right now."

"Then what are you doing here?" She stared at him in disbelief, taking a step back from him, resting her hands on her hips exasperatedly. "Shouldn't you be there with them?"

"My tux fits perfectly, so it doesn't make sense for me to be there," he said softly, speaking in the low voice that always made her knees turn to jelly. "Besides, I've asked Garcia to monitor them. She's more than happy to lord her authority over them." He grinned, knowing he had already convinced her. "Aren't you glad your fiancé has a perfect body?" he added smugly.

"He also has a perfectly large ego..."

He smiled adoringly, wrapping his arms around her waist, as she conceded to his point of view. He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers and she laughed, knowing that he was making it impossible for her to stay mad at him.

"Today is just about us," he told her, "It's been too long since we spent time together."

"But there's still so much to be done..." She tried to sound firm and in control, but it wasn't working because Morgan simply smiled. "Derek..." she pouted.

"Tomorrow," he whispered, tilting his head to kiss her briefly; in the middle of a park and she didn't even hesitate to let him. "Today, we're going to enjoy ourselves. No wedding talk. No daddy issues. Just you and me." Emily opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "You're too tense," he said, as his hand moved to the back of her neck, gently massaging the tense muscle. "The wedding is stressing you out. I want you to be happy, baby. Just today, okay?"

He smiled when she relented, "Fine. Just today." She glared at him playfully.

Looking around the park, she was reminded of the time before they got together. On weekends, if they didn't have a case, she'd come to the park with a book, an blanket, and just read in peace for hours. When she first told Morgan about her little hobby, he laughed and called her 'His Little Bookworm.'

"Wish you had a book and a blanket with you, bookworm?" he teased, pulling out a book and a blanket from the backpack.

******

Spending hours in the park, doing nothing but reading her favourite book and cuddling with her favourite man, definitely made her feel more relaxed than she had in a long time. But apparently, he wasn't convinced that she was relaxed enough and had insisted on a quiet lunch at their favourite café and, when they got home, he told her he felt like baking. Without another word, he tied an apron around her waist and began searching for all the ingredients needed for chocolate chip cookies.

Emily grinned adoringly at his enthusiasm, knowing how much he enjoyed baking and knowing he was doing this all for her. Who knew the big, bad FBI agent was a reputed baker?

As they began the mixing the ingredients, he stood behind her, resting one hand atop of hers which was holding the whisk and the other on the hand holding the bowl. As they gently whisked the eggs and sugar together, he pressed kisses on the back of her neck, her temple, and anywhere he could reach; she loved the way his lips felt on her skin while he enjoyed the way she giggled when he kissed her.

"Are you sure _baking _is what you really want to be doing?" she finally asked as he seemed more focused on her than on the cookies.

She felt him grin as he pressed one last kiss to her exposed skin before moving away to find the cookie sheets, grabbing a handful of chocolate chips in the process and stuffing them all into his mouth at once.

She couldn't help but laugh. "You are such a child..."

"You're just jealous that you didn't think of it first," he said, his mouth still half-full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dear," she scolded lightly, "You're going to be such a bad influence on our kids..."

He smiled to himself as he continued his search for the pans. This was exactly what he had been missing so much over the past few months, the side of her that she so often kept hidden, the light-hearted, easy-going, playful side. He sometimes couldn't help thinking that she might be that way more often if her childhood hadn't seen so much pain, if her father had never left...

Pushing the negative thoughts from his mind, he concentrated on baking and making her happy. He felt a small sense of accomplishment when, sneaking some cookie dough as she turned around, he managed to convince her to eat some.

******

Morgan grinned as he stood behind her, resting his head on her shoulders while she did the dishes. "You missed a spot," he murmured when she gently scrubbed the mixing bowl.

"Try doing the dishes yourself," she glared at him.

"I am," he said seriously, but grinned, "I'm supervising. It's an important role."

Emily rolled her eyes dramatically, but only to prevent herself from giggling. He always had this effect on her; he could always make her smile even in the worst situation, long before they even knew they were attracted to each other.

After she had finally finished doing the dishes, she turned around to face him, kissing him gently. "This is the best day I've had in a long time," she smiled dreamily. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he whispered. "But for that, I believe I deserve one more kiss."

She rolled her eyes again, but grinned and whispered against his lips, "I think you're right."


	10. Chapter 10

_CHAPTER TEN  
_

"I'm so proud of you, baby," Morgan murmured, kissing the back of her head softly.

It was late; they were in bed and he spooned behind her, waiting for sleep to take over. It has been a long, tiring day. They had spent an entire day in the hospital with Emily's father as he went through his treatment. And, for the entire day, all Morgan could see on her face was conflicting emotions. They were so strong that, for a moment, he'd thought he felt those emotions radiating off her body.

As they had made their way to her father's ward, she had a death grip on his hand, clinging onto him as if he was her only lifeline.

That morning, before leaving their place, she had attempted to convince him that she didn't need him to come with her, that there were more pressing matters that he could attend to while she was gone, though she had confessed that she was anxious about going to the hospital with her father.

He'd held her close as she told him how she felt. She confessed that she felt worried and sad and angry and guilty all at once and she was never really sure which one was going to dominate her demeanour for the day. Morgan couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment as she let her mask of composure fall away enough to let him be a part of her emotional turmoil; she had finally accepted the fact that he was always going to be there for her, that he would never leave her no matter what happened in the future, and she had finally stopped compartmentalizing...at least, when they were together.

A part of him wished that her father had never returned, the part of him that wished he could take all the pain and anger away.

He let himself re-visit the events that had happened earlier that day.

He sat beside his fiancée, watching the conflicting emotions on her face as she sat with her father on the chemotherapy ward. She held the hand not currently connected to an IV slowly feeding toxic chemicals into his bloodstream. Yet, despite the physical connection, there was still a distance between them.

_Emily was struggling with keeping her emotions in check and Morgan knew it. She didn't want to be bitter when she was with Joe, when he was undergoing his treatment. He watched her frown as the nurse carefully pushed the thick needle into the protruding veins on the back of his hand. He helplessly watched as her eyes began to fill with tears when she watched the man who was supposedly infallible wince in pain. Despite all her worries, he could still see hints of anger, resentment, and pain._

_There was nothing he could do to take the pain away. All he could do was to wrap his arms around her and whisper encouraging words into her ear. Letting her know that he would always be there, that he'd never leave her. _

_In return, she rested her head on his shoulder, as if to let him know that she needed his support. He tightened his arms around her, hoping to provide some form of comfort._

_Staring at her father, she watched him in pain until it was too much for her to take, then she ran out of the hospital with tears in her eyes. Having gone after her, when Morgan wrapped her arms around her again, she finally broke down. The conflicting emotions had finally taken a toll on her._

"_I feel like such a terrible person..." she whispered._

"_Why would you say that?" He hated seeing her fall apart at the seams._

"_What kind of person sees their dying father in pain and feels anger towards him?" she asked desperately. "But I can't help it! He decides to bring all this grief into our life now... He's known about this for how long and only decides to tell me about it while we're trying to start our lives together? Why would he do that?_

_I just want to hate him because then maybe this wouldn't be so hard... But if I hated him I think I'd feel even worse... I just don't know what to feel."_

"_You don't have to know," he assured, "And you don't have to just feel one thing. It's completely understandable that you're dealing with a lot of different feelings all at once. And I'm sure that your father understands that this isn't easy for you; if he really wants your forgiveness, he'll give you the time to work through this."_

_She was silent for a moment, her tears slowing. "How is it that no other woman snapped you up until now?" she asked softly. He just smiled and kissed her gently._

"Why are you proud of me?" she asked quietly, in deference to the nighttime silence.

"Because you put all your issues aside to be there for your dad when he needed you. I know it wasn't easy for you, but you handled it really well. Your father is lucky you care so much about him..."

"Even after all those years of trying to get over the pain of being abandoned, I guess I never really moved on..."

"Now you don't have to, you can get all the answers you've waited so long to hear and make the peace that will allow you to accept him back into your life."

There was a pensive silence for a moment. "Do you think he'll get better?" she asked, almost fearfully.

He obviously didn't know and didn't want to give her a false sense of security, so he instead said, "I think he has a lot to live for..."

She seemed to accept that answer, snuggling closer against his chest and falling silent again. The silence pervaded the room so thoroughly he thought she had fallen asleep. Then, she spoke again, "Do you ever feel resentful that I get a second chance at having a father and you'll never get that chance?"

"Do I wish I still had my dad, of course. But I had years of good memories of him before I lost him and I had the closure of knowing that he died an honorable death, a hero. I knew he was always a good man. You didn't get any of that... I want you to have those kinds of memories, I want you to be happy."

She smiled. "How did it ever take me so long to realize I wanted to marry you?"

"It's my fault," Morgan smiled, "I took too long to let you know I love you."


	11. Chapter 11

_CHAPTER ELEVEN_

Emily felt disproportionately anxious as she stood, waiting for her father to answer the door, her nerves more equated to playing Russian roulette... Which seemed like a fitting metaphor for the meeting she was about to endure. She was going in blind, not entirely sure what to expect from her father's invitation.

He answered the door with a bright smile, cautiously pulling her into a hug, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted; but she didn't, instead returning the embrace. It wasn't a typical embrace between a father and child, more like one between two friends who had been close decades ago and feel necessitated to give something more than a handshake for the sake of social construct.

He stood back to allow her to enter his little apartment and, in doing so, Emily noticed what he was wearing. "That apron..." she breathed softly, completely awed.

He smiled a little. "I'll bet you didn't think I still had it..."

"I'd honestly completely forgotten about it," she said in the same hushed tone. "Why'd you keep it?"

"I could never get rid of it," he said honestly, "It was a gift from my little girl, it meant the world to me. Still does."

For a moment, Emily was silent, drifting back in her memories to a time before everything had gone to hell in a hand basket. Back before her father had left, they had been very close, far closer than she ever was with her mother. She always looked forwards to her mother leaving on business trips because the time she spent alone with her father were her favourite memories. Together, they'd eat waffles for breakfast and stay up late playing board games; Scrabble was their favourite and he would always let her win, despite the fact that she knew he was throwing the game. The year before he'd left, for his birthday, she'd made him an apron as a joke, sewing swatches of fabric to it that had been cut to look like Scrabble tiles; whenever they'd have their daddy-daughter time after that, he always wore it to cook the waffles, swearing that he loved it, no matter how foolish he looked wearing it.

Then, seeming to remember herself, she raised a brow and asked, "If you're wearing that apron... Does that mean what I think it does?"

"If you're thinking waffles, then it means exactly what you're thinking..." He gave a slightly anxious smile. "That is, if you're up for a little reconciliation breakfast and Scrabble game..."

******

Emily couldn't fathom what her father was trying to do. Did he think that re-creating her favourite moments they'd had together was going to make everything okay? Or did he think that re-creating moments like these was actually fun? Maybe if he hadn't left and they'd had the time to build a strong father-daughter relationship, times like this would be awesome; she'd look forward to them. But right now, it sucked. It was painful to know that they could have a lot more amazing times like this if he'd stayed. It was a hell of a lot more heartbreaking to know that even with beautiful moments like these, he'd still left; he'd still hardened his heart and walked away from her.

She kept checking her phone the whole time she was with her father, hoping that Morgan would call to tell her that there was some important matter she needed to attend to. Or maybe even JJ calling to tell her that they had a case and they had to leave right away.

No such luck...

First, Morgan would never want to interrupt her time with her father. He had made it very clear that he wanted her to get to know Joe again and, hopefully, accept him as her father again. As for work, Hotch had approved their leave, giving them more time to prepare for the wedding. Sighing frustratedly, she had no other choice but to accept the fact that she was going to spend the entire day with her father.

Every time she met his eyes or when he talked to her in that fatherly manner, she had the urge to lash out at him. She wanted to know why he left, why walking out on her was so easy for him. Why did he take that damn apron she made and not her? She wanted to ask, wanted to know, but she knew if she asked him right now, she'd be unleashing all her emotions on him. So, she waited...

She waited until she could compartmentalize, until she was sure that she could keep her emotions in check and not unleash almost thirty years of anger, pain, and hurt on him. Part of her wanted to let him know the immense pain and hurt he had inflicted on her when he walked out the door, but she didn't – couldn't – do it. She felt bad about being mean to a sick and possibly dying man. And the thought of him dying made her frustrated and angry, all over again.

They had just met, just reunited, and he might be leaving her...again. For good this time. Was this some kind of cruel joke? Some sort of punishment?

And it brought her back to one of her burning questions. Why now? Why wait until he was dying to come back to her? If he never had cancer, did that mean that she would never have seen him again?

There was an awkward silence that should never exist between a father and his daughter. But there was nothing they could do about it. Joe understood Emily's tight-lipped behaviour. He could tell that she was trying very hard to not break down in front of him. He knew what she was thinking, she wanted to ask him all the questions that had been bothering her since he left, but she was waiting. So, instead of forcing her to ask him the questions, he waited for her to be ready. Meanwhile, he went on to ask her questions about her life, mainly about her and the man she was going to marry.

"So, how long have you known Derek?" he asked, keeping his tone light and casual as he took the waffles out of the waffle iron.

"Almost five years now," she replied distantly, shrugging, "We met at work."

"You've been together that long?" Joe continued, completely unfazed by her cold reply.

"Umm... No." She shook her head, as she placed strawberries on the plate, unwilling to meet his eyes. "We were friends first. Then he became one of my closest friends and I guess we both wanted something more."

"How did you get together?"

Emily smiled softly, letting herself revisit what happened that fateful day. "Two years ago, there was this blizzard settling over Quantico. We knocked off work earlier than usual and I left first. On his way home, his car broke down about a block away from my apartment," she smiled softly, "The blizzard was settling in fast and he knew he wouldn't make it home in time. He called me and, of course, I agreed to let him hang out at my place until the blizzard was over. Things happened, we kissed and he almost never left..."

Joe grinned slightly; he wasn't sure if she had let her guard down or she was just lost in her memories, but this reply was better than any of the previous ones. He could hear her smiling when she talked about Derek.

"He seems like a good man."

"He is," Emily insisted, "He's always there for me, even before we started dating."

Her father frowned, getting the sense that the simple statement was meant as something of a jab at him for having been there for her. But he refused to let it get in the way of what he optimistically saw as a growing bond. "I'm very happy for you," he said honestly.

She gave a terse smile. It was easy to fake sincerity and she wasn't sure whether or not she was ready to believe him yet, so, to save herself having to come up with a response she didn't feel terrible giving, she stuffed slightly too large a bite of waffle into her mouth. She couldn't help but wonder if this would ever be easy...

* * *

**We're not begging for reviews but you guys've been slacking... :D**


	12. Chapter 12

_CHAPTER TWELVE_

Emily frowned, staring blankly at her rack of Scrabble tiles, looking anywhere but at her father. She was so distracted that she was playing terribly, but, asalways, her dad was pretending to be faring worse. Her mind was still struggling to comprehend what exactly what he was hoping to accomplish.

"This isn't going to work..." she said quietly.

He looked at her in confusion. "What?"

"This isn't going to fix anything," she elaborated, a little exasperatedly, "This doesn't change the fact that you were gone for most of my life."

He nodded, knowing better than to attempt justification. He waited for the slow trickle of emotions she was allowing herself to expose to break the dam, waited for the flood that was sure to follow.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, running a hand through her hair nervously. "Is this fun for you? Re-creating the times we've had together... Maybe you're enjoying this, but to me, this sucks," she confessed, forcefully placing a tile on the board. "I hate it."

"You should have told me..." Joe said softly.

"Told you?" Emily asked incredulously, "Would you listen? I told you not to leave. I begged and I cried, but you still had the heart to walk out... Did I mean nothing to you?"

"No, you mean the world to me," he insisted.

"Right." She laughed humorlessly and shook her head. "I mean the world to you, so you took that damn apron I made for you and left me... I guess that apron means more to you than I do..."

"Emily..."

"Why? Why did you leave? How could you have the heart to walk out when your_ daughter_, a ten year old, was desperately crying and begging you not to leave? How could you do that?"

"Emily, I know it may sound contrived, but I was trying to do what was best for you. I tried, I really did, I made it work for as long as I could for your sake... but you know how your mother is... It's all about power in her mind and she needed to be in control of everything." From her expression, he had a feeling that she knew exactly what that was like.

"I hated living like that," he continued, "I hated always coming second. The truth was, our marriage was falling apart, probably from the very beginning. And, if it was going to end, I wanted it to be while we still had some semblance of respect for one another, before we hated each other. But I also wanted to prove that I didn't need her, that I could be something worthwhile without her."

She had tears shining in her eyes. "So, it was all about some petty game of superiority?" That thought seemed to break her more than anything he'd said thus far.

"No," he swore, "It was always about _you_. I had to find a stable job, something that would allow me to support you; I planned on fighting for full custody, to have you live with me. Having to travel so much was taking such a toll on you, you never got a chance to just be a kid, and it tore me up to see you suffering for the sake of your mother's political ambition." Again, her expression flickered and he had a feeling he didn't know the half of it. "I did absolutely everything in my power to convince the judge that it was in your best interests to live in the stable enviornment I had tried to create... but your mother had a lot of connections and her money paid for the kind of legal representation I could only dream of. She had me defeated six ways from Sunday before I even knew what hit me."

She bit at her lip, the physical manifestation of the turmoil bubbling deep inside. "But why didn't you ever call? You never wrote or tried to see me..."

"I _did _call," he protested, "Every day for months... But I could never get through; whether because your mother had blocked my number or changed hers, I'm not entirely sure. And I never heard from her after that, never knew where you were living or how to reach you..."

Her eyes then blazed with anger, despite her voice still being tinged with sadness. "She wouldn't let me talk to my father because she was angry at you for leaving, for fighting for custody?"

For reasons he couldn't entirely fathom, perhaps because he didn't want Emily to be angry with her mother so close to the wedding, he suddenly jumped to his ex-wife's defense. "I'm sure she was only doing what she thought would protect you. She probably assumed it would be too painful for you to speak with me, but not be able to see me... Despite what you might believe, she too only ever wanted what was best for you."

His earnest confessions were followed by what felt like the longest silence in the history of time, the balance so fragile that one deep breath would send it off-kilter. Finally, with what seemed an enormous effort, Emily whispered softly, "I believe you."

He felt his heart soar. It wasn't forgiveness just yet, but it was more progress than he ever thought he'd be able to make. But there was still something palpably wrong, something still weighing on her mind. "Em, what's wrong?" he asked gently.

"How am I ever supposed to make _my _marriage work?" Again, her voice was laden with tears and a hint of fear.

It was perhaps the most startling thing he'd heard her say all day. "What?"

"Our family has _terrible _marriages, full of anger and resentment. We fall out of love, grow to hate each other, and leave, tearing families – lives – apart... How can I ever hope for anything better?"

He had a strong feeling that this had more to do with her being overwhelmed by everything he'd just confessed, more to do with an overabundance of emotions with no other outlet, than it had to do with her getting cold feet. He reached out to take her hand, feeling mild accomplishment when she didn't pull away. "Em, you need to listen to me," he said seriously, "You have to believe me when I say that your mother and I were never in love the way that you and Derek are... I knew that the moment I met him; his whole world revolves around you and he'd do anything for you. Your mother and I never had that, which is probably part of why we gave up rather than fight for our marriage, there was nothing left to salvage. I do not think that your marriage will end up that way, there's no doubt in my mind."

"How do you know that?"

"Fathers have a sixth sense when it comes to the kind of men that are right for their daughters. I may not have been a father for very long, but I know that Derek Morgan is a good man and that he cares for you very much. If anyone can make a marriage work, I have every faith that you two can."

Slowly, she said, "_This _was why I needed you when I was growing up..." She gave a quiet half-sob, half-laugh. Then, for what seemed like the first time in a lifetime, she smiled at him, a genuine smile that lit up her face and made him believe that things were going to turn out alright.

* * *

**Thanks for your reviews! Keep them coming!**


	13. Chapter 13

_CHAPTER THIRTEEN_

Morgan smiled to himself as he tightened his grip on Emily's hand. She reciprocated the pressure, giving him a brilliant smile. Though he would never admit it to her, he was already getting butterflies in his stomach at the thought of the immediacy of the wedding; he was nervous about a lot of things, like losing the ring and being late getting to the church, but the one thing he wasn't anxious at all about was actually being married. He had waited so long for this and he couldn't have been happier now that it was almost here. Though he had, on more than one occasion, suggested they just elope, he was glad for the chance to prove his love for her for once and for all in front of all their family and friends.

His head was swimming with these and a thousand other thoughts about the wedding, it really only having just set in as an immediate reality in his mind. It had always been _real_, but he hadn't really realized the breadth of it until that day's events had hammered the point home.

As they had gotten dressed for the rehearsal dinner that evening, he had just stood back watching Emily curl her hair, absorbing the fact that, in a few days' time, she was going to be his _wife_. When she had asked him what he was thinking about, she had laughed lightly as he told her, then kissed him and told him she wouldn't want it any other way.

Wrangling his powers of concentration, he turning his attention back to the conversation at hand and instantly regretted having tuned out. The rehearsal dinner had he and Emily seated next to both of their parents which, as a grouping of parents has a tendency to do, found them exchanging stories about their children. He'd always been told that parents saved the most embarrassing stories for their childrens' weddings, which he was discovering was true.

As he heard his mother launch into one of her favourite tales about his childhood, he practically begged, "Oh, Mama, do you really have to tell _this _story?"

She laughed, "What story would you prefer I tell?"

"Quite frankly, none," he said seriously.

"Good luck with that," Emily whispered, already having heard several of her less-than-proud moments relayed to the rest of the table.

As his mother once again began the story, he consigned himself to the inevitable embarrassment and once again allowed his attention to drift. The two mothers had become fast friends over the last several months and his mother had just as easily bonded with Emily's father. What surprised him, though, was just how well Emily's parents were getting along with each other; it wasn't often that a divorce allowed for such amiable interaction. He had a strong feeling that they had called an armistice for the sake of Emily's happiness, but he would also have bet money that, at least in part, it was related to her father's illness; no one wanted to spend their remaining time together angrily.

But, whatever it was, he was immensely thankful for the good-natured atmosphere since it was one less thing weighing on Emily's mind.

He snapped out of his reverie again upon hearing the Ambassador's voice asking, "You've got everything ready for the wedding? Are you starting to get nervous?"

Morgan smiled sheepishly when he realized that the Ambassador was speaking to Emily. His grin turned into a proud smirk when he heard Emily's answer.

"Everything's ready, thanks to Pen and JJ," Emily replied with a smile, "And I guess, I'm a little nervous, but it's the good kind. Honestly, I can't wait for the big day to get here..."

"Your father would be very proud of you," Mrs. Morgan whispered softly into Morgan's ear, resting her hand atop of his. "I'm proud of you too, honey."

"Thanks mom."

With happy tears in her eyes, she continued proudly, "My baby's finally getting married. Soon, my baby will have babies of his own... They'll be beautiful. Do you think I'll be around when they take their first steps?"

Morgan laughed, "Mama, you'll be there for everything for them, but let's not get ahead of ourselves, alright?" Though he and Emily both agreed that they should deal with the wedding first and leave starting a family for later, he couldn't help but grin at the thought of being a father. Looking at Emily, his grin grew; his mother was right, their children would be beautiful.

"What are you talking about?" Emily asked when she heard Morgan laugh heartily.

"Mama's dreaming about grandbabies again."

"Well," Garcia said cheekily, "Maybe after the two-week cruise in the Caribbean, her dreams will come true real soon..."

JJ grinned, "Yeah, stuck on a boat for two weeks with nothing but a bed and a shower..."

"Oh, for pete's sake, JJ," Emily groaned, a furious blush creeping up her cheeks, "Please stop."

Clearing his throat awkwardly, with a slight blush on his face, Morgan announced, "Excuse me ladies. I need to use the bathroom."

"Awww... Derek Morgan's blushing..." Garcia teased in a sing-song tone.

"Like I said, excuse me." Hurrying away, he attempted to block out the voices and laughter at the table as they no doubt continued to speculate on the imminence of his future offspring. He certainly hoped that his mother wasn't taking their words to heart...

Standing at the sink, splashing water on his face, he gave a start at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him.

Morgan groaned inwardly as he turned around to find Joe Prentiss standing a couple of feet behind him. He was sure that Emily's father was here to corner him and give him the traditional _'hurt my daughter and no one will ever find your body...'_ talk.

During the several minutes of awkward silence, Joe wondered how he had ever managed to work up the guts to threaten someone like Derek; this man was tall and muscular, and he could very well take him down in a less than a minute if he wanted to.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind and clearing his throat again, he worked up his best threatening voice, "I think you know why I'm here..."

"Yes, sir."

"Good," the older man nodded his head, "We understand each other. I'll keep it simple; if you ever hurt my little girl, I will make you suffer for the rest of your life..."

"I hear you," Morgan replied, stuttering a little; not that he would admit it, but he was somewhat frightened. "But that won't happen. Emily means too much to me. I'd never do anything to hurt her. You have my word."

******

When Derek stepped out of the restaurant's bathroom, he was immediately accosted by Emily and her death glare. He figured it had something to do with him leaving for the bathroom and leaving her to deal with their overenthusiastic friends. Without another word, she quietly pulled him to a semi-private corner of the restaurant, away from their friends and family, glaring at him.

"I hate you," she huffed.

"Oh, come on," he said, pulling on his best puppy dog look, knowing she couldn't resist. "That isn't a nice thing to say to your future husband."

Emily tried to stay firm and look upset with him, but finally gave in to him. "You know I can't stay mad at you for long, right?" she sighed softly.

"Thank you," he grinned.

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I'm taking it as one," he shrugged. She glared at him again and he smiled, gently pulling her into his arms. Speaking in a low, soothing voice that always made her go weak in the knees, he said, "I'm sorry I left you alone to deal with them..."

"It's fine," she finally relented, mumbling against his chest. "I just don't know how much more embarrassment I can take."

Morgan chuckled. "Just remember, this is all leading up to our big day and it's all worth it. I know you are."

"You're such a sweet talker," she whispered, smiling. They remained in that embrace for several minutes in silence, just enjoying the company. "What did my father want to talk to you about?" Emily asked quietly, as if afraid to disturb the moment of tranquillity.

"Can't say," he answered, "Top secret."

She looked at him with a raised brow. "Meaning he threatened your life and scared the crap out of you," she supplied.

He shrugged. "Personally, I think he's taking this father thing a little _too_ far..."

Emily laughed, "You've just gotten too complacent; since we started dating since you'd never had to face him until now."

He smiled. "Well, I suppose I should have known what I was getting into when I encouraged you to forgive him."

She was silent for a moment, though he could tell that she was secretly pleased over just how protective her father was; all doubts she might have had aside, he knew she really loved her father. She eventually broke the silence with an amused remark of, "Just think... One day you'll be giving that same speech to suitors of our own little girls..."

Upon hearing that, the brightest grin appeared on Morgan's face. "So, tell me, how many of these little girls do you think we'll have?"


	14. Chapter 14

_CHAPTER FOURTEEN_

While he had been working on his father of the bride toast during one of his treatments, another patient told him that no matter how much he might love his future son-in-law, when he walked his daughter to the alter, every fibre of his being would be screaming at him to never let her go.

And he had no doubt that truer words had never been spoken. In the days leading up to the wedding day, watching Emily grow ever more excited at the prospect of being married, he felt his own heart sink a little more. He'd only just gotten his baby girl back and he'd have to give her away again. Of course, he was happy for her, but it was a bitter sweet kind of happy. But he would much rather be allowed to walk her down the aisle, to have the daddy-daughter dance; it hadn't been that long ago when she hadn't wanted him in attendance at all...

Currently, he was standing outside the church, waiting for Emily to arrive, feeling his heart pounding with something akin to nervousness. He was starting to wonder if he was strong enough to get through this, if he was strong enough to let her go.

And, before he'd had time to convince himself that he could handle this, the limo had pulled up and the bridesmaids were helping Emily get out without tearing her dress. She smiled when she saw him and her whole face lit up. "Hi, Daddy," she said softly.

He felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs upon seeing her in her wedding dress, suddenly struck with the realization that she wasn't his baby girl, but a grown woman; the thought broke his heart a little. "You look beautiful," he told her.

She smiled her thanks. "Are you ready?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "No," he said hoarsely. She gave a little laugh. "I don't think I'll ever be ready to let go of my little girl." He felt himself starting to tear up, despite his best efforts to hold back the clamouring flood of emotions.

Emily noticed and sniffled slightly. "Don't cry, Daddy," she plead, "You'll make me start to cry and I'll smudge my make up..."

"What?" Garcia piped up, "No make up smudging allowed!"

Emily laughed again and gave him a pointed look. "We'd better do what she says...wouldn't want to get on her bad side..."

He smiled slightly and pulled her into a hug, mindful of her dress. As she returned the embrace, he whispered, "I'm so proud of you. I've never stopped loving you."

"I love you too, Daddy."

******

Morgan had seen the way Emily's father had held tightly to her hand as he walked her down the aisle. He noticed the way he had hugged her tightly as they reached the alter until Emily had whispered that he could let go. He had held tightly to her for a split second longer as if his very life depended on maintaining the connection. And, when he'd finally let go, Morgan could see the tears shining in the older man's eyes.

He couldn't blame the man, he couldn't imagine how much it must be killing him to watch another man become the most important person in his little girl's life. He couldn't even begin to imagine how badly it would hurt to lose someone like Emily. He hoped he'd never have to find out.

As he took Emily's hands into his, Joe whispered, "Take care of my little girl."

"If it's the last thing I do," Derek promised, gently squeezing his bride's hands. And as her father went back to his seat, he smiled brightly. "You look beautiful, baby," he whispered to Emily.

"Thank you," she smiled shyly and the prettiest shade of pink coloured her cheeks. "You're looking pretty good yourself."

"Dearly beloved," the priest began solemnly, "We are gathered here today to join together Derek James Morgan and Emily Elizabeth Prentiss in holy matrimony. If anyone here can see just cause why this marriage should not take place, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

No one said anything. To all those who were invited, it seemed like the couple were a match made in heaven. There was no reason as to why the marriage should not take place. As it seemed that no one would say anything, the priest continued.

As the priest went through the vows, Emily smiled brightly at the man she was going to marry. Her father was right; if there was anyone who could make this marriage work, it'd be the two of them. She knew it was not going to be easy, but they'd be more than willing to make it work. After all, good marriages never happened by accident. And they loved each other too much to give up.

She giggled softly when she heard her husband mumbled, "About time," when the priest announced for him to kiss the bride.

Morgan smiled as he gently brushed his lips across Emily's, pulling her closer. He heard the joyous cheers and the applause of the crowed when she wrapped her arms around him. "I love you," he whispered against her lips, seconds before they pulled apart, and he grinned like a fool when he heard her whispered it back.

******

The newly wedded couple made their way the dance floor hand in hand, smiling happily. As the song began to play, Morgan pulled Emily closer, twirling her around a little, causing her giggle softly, before wrapping his arms around her.

"Enjoying yourself, wifey?" he teased.

"Please don't call me that," she glared at him playfully. "I prefer 'baby' so much more. And yes, I'm enjoying myself. Thanks for the surprise," she smiled softly.

He grinned and shrugged. "I thought you might like the chocolate fountain."

She laughed, "You know me so well."

"That's kinda the point, isn't it..."

She attempted to resist rolling her eyes. "Just dance, smart ass..." she murmured, leaning up to kiss him gently.

He couldn't help but grin foolishly, feeling so happy it had to be a sin. He brought his hands to either side of her face, preventing her from pulling back from the kiss, feeling her smile against his lips. As clichéd as it might have sounded, he couldn't help but feel that this was by far the best day of his life thus far. Although, to be fair, he also couldn't wait for it to end...

Emily, seemingly sensing his train of thought, broke the kiss to whisper, "Behave yourself..." He just laughed, pulling on his best disappointed look.

******

The ethereal notes of the song he had helped chose for the father-daughter dance hung in the air like fog, all-encompassing for a moment, filling the room, before raining down on them lightly like a soft summer drizzle. But whatever else might have existed in the room in that moment was no longer there or at least, no longer mattered. For a few short fleeting moments, she was his again, only his; he could pretend like he hadn't just given her away.

He reflected on the times of what seemed a life-time ago, when Emily was still small enough to stand on his feet to dance. He couldn't help but think that there hadn't been nearly enough of those dances; had he known how few of those dances he would have, he would have made time for more, made excuses to dance with his baby girl and he would have cherished the ones they did have, memorizing every detail.

But in the end, all that really mattered right now was that he had finally gotten his father-daughter dance. The one he hadn't entirely been sure he would live long enough to see and even more so doubted he deserved.

"You look beautiful, darling," Joe repeated, trying not to think about the events of the day too deeply, knowing that he might break down.

"Thanks, Daddy." He knew without even looking that she was wearing that same radiant smile she had worn all day.

"Are you happy?" he asked, knowing full well that she was. He just didn't want the silence to descend between them, frightened of what it might hold.

Emily smiled a little brighter and nodded. "This is better than anything I could have dreamed of."

"Good," he grinned and hugged her, "I'm really happy for you." He meant it, but the words still weighed heavily on his heart and his mind.

Almost as if reading his mind, she whispered softly, "You know, just because I'm married now, it doesn't mean you're any less important. You're still my dad..."

"I know," he said gently, in reverence to the fragility of the moment. He wasn't entirely sure _'still' _was the right word. "I'm glad I got to be here for this."

"Me too," she said genuinely. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too," he whispered back. "And I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me..."

"No," she shook her head, "You're here now; that's all that matters..."

He kissed her forehead, knowing that in another few moments, this little oasis of peaceful memory would be shattered like so much broken glass and he would once again have to watch her lean into the embrace of the man who had stolen her away. So, he held her close while he still could and pretended as if the moment would last forever, knowing that the memory, at least, would.

******

Despite the fact that the entire day had had them at the centre of attention, Emily now found herself a little uncomfortable with all the attention.

But Morgan's gentle, loving smile reassured her and quieted the butterflies in her stomach a little, only serving to further reinforce just how perfect a man he was.

He waited until she returned his smile, taking it as assurance that she was ready, before proceeding. The bouquet had been tossed, all that was left was for him to remove her garter and toss it to the single men, and then they could officially start their life together.

He couldn't help but smirk slightly, quickly doing his best to suppress it, as he slowly ran his hand up her leg and she shot him a warning look, as if reminding him that he had to be on his best behaviour for just a little longer. But he knew that behind the faint glare was a smile of anticipation, a look she was well versed at hiding, but he could spot at the drop of a hat.

He had insisted that they keep this tradition as part of the reception, citing various completely innocuous reasons. But he was pretty sure Emily knew he just wanted a chance to get her hot and bothered so he could have her all to himself that little bit sooner. Not that she was complaining.

He took as much time as he dared to remove the garter, gently caressing her leg in the process, before finally focusing himself on the task at hand long enough to toss it to the assembled male party-goers. His attention maintained not a second longer, turning his gaze back to Emily and the first day of the rest of their lives.


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors' note: WARNING!! This chapter is rated M. PURE SMUT.  
****  
Chapter 14 was offically the last chapter for 'A Second Chance', this came into our heads while we were brainstorming for ideas. SMUT isn't something we wrote often but we wanted to challenge ourselves and write something that is out of our comfort zone. If you read it, we hope you like it because we do. If you're underaged, squrimish or you simply don't like stuff like that, don't worry, you won't miss out anything important if you don't read it. I repeat: THIS IS JUST PURE SMUT. IT DOES NOT CONTAIN ANY PLOT.  
****  
But if you do read it, please leave us a review. We'd love to hear from you and hopefully improve on our writing.  
****  
And a big thank you to everyone who loyally followed this story. You guys are totally awesome (; We hope you enjoyed reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.**

PS - Sorry for the super long note, I totally get it if you dozed off on your keyboard for a bit. d:  


* * *

  


_CHAPTER FIFTEEN_

The newlyweds smiled happily as they approached their honeymoon suite hand-in-hand. It had been a long and tiring day, yet they had enjoyed themselves thoroughly. This was by far the best day of their lives. Stopping in front of their suite, Derek grinned and without warning, wrapped an arm behind Emily's knees and swept her up into his arms, causing her to yelp in surprise, then giggle softly.

"You don't have to do that," she smiled as he gently dipped her down to slot in the key card then, in classic Derek Morgan fashion, kicked the door open.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do that," he grinned as he carried her into the room. Setting her down on her feet, he looked around and his grin grew wider. "Alone... At last."

"Alone... At last." She giggled at his comment and leaned in to kiss him softly, but pulled back sooner than he would have liked and teased, "So, what should we do now?"

He chuckled, "I love you," then kissed her deeply.

Looking up at him when they had broken the kiss, Emily saw the hunger in his eyes that caused her core to flutter with desire. He began to work on unpinning her hair, carefully removing her tiara and veil before meticulously and tenderly teasing all the pins from her hair. Once her hair was free, she shook the curls loose slowly and he smiled in appreciation.

"You're very sexy, you know that?" he whispered teasingly into her ear as he moved to stand behind her.

Emily knew it sounded a little sad, but she was already turned on and it had barely begun.

Derek went on to press hot kisses on her neck and her shoulders, pushing away the strap of her dress in the process.

At that point, all Emily wanted was for him to remove the dress as quickly as possible, but he seemed to have other ideas. He slowly pulled the zipper down, stopping every couple of seconds to kiss and nibble on the newly revealed skin for longer than was necessary and a lot longer then she would have liked.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he allowed the dress to fall to the floor, at which point Emily was glad that she had taken Garcia's advice and invested in some knock-out underwear. His hands roamed over her body, his fingers tracing the edges of her bra and panties, leaving a trail of fire in his wake that left her shivering slightly in anticipation.

He turned her around to face him and leaned in to kiss her slowly but soundly. As they kissed, he reached behind her to unhook her bra, then ghosted his fingers over the edge of her panties, causing her to moan softly into his mouth, before he completely removed her last piece of clothing.

She stood utterly naked in front of him as he drank in the sight. "You're so beautiful," he said sincerely.

Emily smiled shyly, then waggled her brows suggestively, "Your turn."

As she unbuttoned his shirt with deliberate slowness, he pressed kisses to any exposed skin that he could reach; she teased him a little, giving him limited access, pulling back before his lips could connect with her skin. As he let his shirt fall away, he pulled her tightly against his body and brought his lips crashing down on hers. She smirked a little, feeling his frustration both in his kiss and in his hardness.

Through the fabric of his pants, she caressed him gently. His breath caught, shuddering slightly, and he let out a faint moan. She could feel his length hardening as she continued her ministrations and it only increased the tension already building inside her.

She ran her hands over his sculpted chest, taking her time exploring his body as if for the first time. He kissed along her jaw as she took her sweet time undoing his pants; having agreed to abstain from sex in the weeks leading up to the wedding had left him eager to once again feel the carnal pleasure of being with the woman who was now his wife and, however strong his intentions to take things slowly, he was already yearning for more. How they had managed to wait so long, he would never know. He brought his hands to her wrists, urging her to stop teasing him and finish undressing him.

She laughed lightly, her hot breath ghosting over his cheek as she finally obliged, letting his trousers fall away, tugging his boxer briefs down to his thighs until they could slide down his legs on their own. She unabashedly let her eyes roam over her husband's well sculptured body, right from his handsome face down to his erection.

Grinning slyly, she wrapped her hands around his arousal, stroking from tip to base, loving the way he cursed softly as she did so. She grinned when she heard him hiss in pleasure as her thumb swirled one, two, three circles around the tip.

Knowing he wouldn't last long if she continued with her ministrations, he grabbed her wrists to stop the torture and, without another word, he swept her up into his arms once again and quickly made his way to the massive four-poster bed. Gently, he laid her down on the bed then crawled on top of her, straddling her.

He was close enough for her to feel his arousal against her taut stomach, but not nearly close enough to where she wanted him the most. But before she could change anything about their position, he pinned her hands above her head with one of his arms and kissed her with a renewed ardour, while the other hand cupped her breast, squeezing it gently, before he parted from her lips, earning himself another whimper.

He latched his lips to the same breast, swirling his tongue over her pebbled nipple while his hand lavished attention on its twin. Her soft moans and sighs of pleasure filled the room and, even when he was highly aroused, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride that he was the only one who could make her lose control and he felt so proud to say that he would be the only man in her life from this day on.

"I love you so much," he murmured huskily against her skin before switching his attention to her other breast. She seemed about to reply, but her words were instead replaced by a hum of pleasure as he gently rolled her nipple between his teeth. He took her wanton sounds as signs of her affection nonetheless, smiling smugly as he continued to suck at her breast.

"Jesus, Derek..." she breathed, somehow finding the mental faculties to form words despite the skilful way he was attending to her needs. But he was still neglecting her most aching need and she spurred him on, trailing her hands over every part of his body she could reach. Digging her nails into his biceps when he gently bit down on her nipple, she moaned unrestrainedly, "Derek... Please..."

The muscles in his face didn't move one bit, but he was grinning inwardly, secretly loving the way she ground out his name in the throes of passion. Never one to deny her, he leaned up, kissing her hard on her already swollen mouth and swallowing her moans as he sank one finger into her warmth, then a second one joined the first, working deeply, but carefully avoiding giving her release.

Emily shuddered hard; her breathing was laboured as she struggled to absorb every intimate caress and her senses were completely focused, greedily seizing all they could from each slow and heavy thrust of his fingers, but she discovered that it was never enough. And, without warning, he tore his lips away from hers, but his lips never left her body. He kissed, nibbled, and licked every part of her he could reach, from her neck to her heaving chest, down to her taut stomach, then in between her thighs, where she wanted them the most.

He lightly flicked his tongue over her clit and she arched slightly at the feel of it. He licked and sucked, continuing his efforts to drive her to the edge, only to pull back at the last moment. He wanted their first time as husband and wife to be memorable and he wanted her absolutely aching with need, begging for release, before he sent her over the edge.

He continued to work her heat with his mouth and his fingers until she was trembling, writhing and gripping tightly at the sheets beneath her. "Derek, please..." she moaned through ratcheting breaths, "Please, don't stop..."

Feeling that he'd produced the desired reaction, he finally granted her respite, giving her the release she craved. She cried out his name and a few curses as he felt her muscles pulsating as she came down from the ecstasy he'd built.

She was out of breath, her hair damp with sweat, her mouth dry; her body felt so light that she should be floating, yet so heavy she couldn't move a limb. He loved seeing her like this, her dark mane tousled, her lush body sated, her chest heaving, her skin all flushed, tell-tale marks of his passion for her on her flawless skin.

He grinned broadly, a primitive side of him gloated, and he felt himself bursting with pride at the knowledge that it was him that made her lose all control.

Her eyes were still closed as she tried to catch her breath and she felt him lie beside her, gently stroking her cheek. Finally, when she opened her eyes, she found her husband looking at her tenderly and so lovingly.

She smiled softly and brought his hand to her mouth and kissed his fingers soaked in her essence, then slowly licked them, took them into her mouth one by one, sucking them, sending shocks of pleasure through his body.

"Emily..." his voice hitched.

Tearing his hand from her lips, he shifted to move on top of her, but she pushed him back and raised herself so that she was leaning over him. "My turn," she murmured, then moved to straddle him.

Her hands splayed across his muscular chest then, very slowly, she ran them down to his hips, occasionally dragging her nails over his over sensitive skin and tweaking his nipples, causing him to groan. He knew she was obviously making him pay for teasing her out of her mind earlier and she completely intended to do the same to him, denying him until he begged.

She leaned down and kissed him deeply, as her hands continued to roam his body, until they reached his throbbing length. Then, she moved her lips down sucking, licking, nibbling, and kissing his skin, loving the way he moaned as she traced her fingers over his hardness. She kissed her way down his body, lingering to swirl her tongue inside his navel, making him buck under her.

Giggling huskily, she continued to lick downwards; he tensed, waiting – wanting – her to touch him where he needed her the most, but she moved past the obvious and went on to kiss his thighs. He panted, struggling to catch his breath while clutching the sheets with a frustrated groan.

He knew his frustration was exactly what she wanted; she fully intended to torture him, to shake up the bottle, but not pop the cork, so to speak. He unconsciously held his breath as she kissed her way back up his thighs, then released the breath in a little noise of appreciation as she ran her tongue along his length.

Very slowly and deliberately, she sensuously ran her tongue over his arousal again, alternating that with feather-light touches of her fingers over his length and sometimes digging her nails into the soft skin if his inner thighs.

"Baby... Please," he hissed when she licked the tip of his length. He was ready to explode and she had just began her torture.

As she continued to work her lips down his hardness, he could feel her grinning victoriously at the fact that she could have him pleading so easily. "Is it too much?" she murmured with false innocence against him before once again swirling her tongue in a way that elicited noises of pleasure from him. The feel of her lips ghosting over his skin alone was enough to have him shuddering.

They both knew from the way she made him shiver, the lustful noises tumbling from his lips, the breathless way he begged her, that he wasn't going to last much longer if she continued her skilful ministrations.

Then, without a warning, she took him into her mouth slowly, bit by bit until he was completely buried in her mouth; watching his reaction with hooded eyes.

Cursing under his breath, he let out another groan and closed his eyes in defeat. The sight of her making love to him with her mouth was too much. "Emily... Don't... Don't stop..." he moaned breathlessly as she sucked him hard and her hands cupped his testicles, squeezing them lightly. She granted his wish by increasing the speed and he instinctively arched upwards into her mouth.

His breathing became more laboured, if it was even possible, and perspiration broke on his brow. His body felt like it was on fire, shuddering hard at every deliberate stroke of her tongue.

The tension inside him building to a fever pitch, the last thing he remembered thinking was how lucky he was to have this woman as his wife. Then, as it all became too much, his senses overloading , his mind shot a blank, shutting off all cognitive processes as he turned himself over to the overwhelming ecstasy of the moment.

With a low, guttural moan, he finally came, getting the release he'd been aching for. His eyes remained shut for a little while, as he tried to catch his breath. When he finally opened his eyes, he met her gaze. Her cocky grin made him laugh heartily. "You seemed pretty satisfied with yourself," he told her softly.

"Well, I am," she shrugged nonchalantly, but he caught her eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the lamp.

He laughed again and opened his arms, wanting to hold her close. "Come here," he whispered. She obliged and crawled to cuddle up to him, snuggling close to him as he recovered. He held her close, basking in her warmth, in the feel of her body in his arms. He wanted hold her like this forever, he couldn't help but feel himself get hard for her again when he saw the loving yet the still-yearning look for him in her eyes.

As if reading his mind, she covered his mouth with hers, kissing him passionately. Then she kissed his jaw, moving upwards until her lips touched his earlobe, and he heard her whisper, "I want you."

He grinned and rolled her over, trapping her beneath him. "I always want you."

"Then make love to me..."

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled lasciviously as he balanced above her, staring down into her eyes swirling with desire. He gently brought her knee up to rest against his hip as he settled between her legs.

In his mind, the first time they made love as a married couple should be slow and sweet, yet the kind of experience they'd look back on as being one of the best; so, he paused before entering her, leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

She didn't have to say it, he already knew, he could feel it, but she said it anyways, breaking the kiss momentarily to whisper breathily, "Need you..." Then, her lips once again met his, her tongue flickering out to meet his.

He smiled upon hearing those words, that familiar glow burning inside at hearing her longing for him. He buried himself in her willing flesh, taking his time filling her, swallowing her soft gasp. His own breath caught at the feel of her warmth snug around him; it always seemed to take him by surprise just how good it felt to have her wet and tight around his hardness as he began to move.

As he began to slowly thrust into her, his lips travelled down her neck, feeling her pulse racing. She let out a soft moan and rocked her hips up to meet him, her sweat-slicked body sliding against his. He continued to move within her slowly, taking his time to enjoy the feel of her heat around him.

Grabbing the hand that was cupping her face, she placed it on her breast, urging him to squeeze it. The feel of his warm hand on her breast and his hardness moving within her, bringing her pleasure, sent her senses into an overdrive, yet it didn't seem enough for her to get to where she wanted – needed – to be.

She wrapped her leg around his hip, urging him deeper. He gladly obliged, increasing his pace, pounding into her harder. She raked her nails down his back, biting her lip as each stroke built the tension in her body. He peppered kisses over her face and neck, his hand still working her breast.

"God, Derek..." she breathed, shutting her eyes. Several curses followed as a climax raced through her, causing all the muscles in her body to quiver and go deliciously numb, rendering her speechless.

But he wasn't quite done yet.

Knowing that she'd be tender after a climax, he did everything possible to resist the temptation of mindlessly thrusting into her; besides, that wasn't what he had planned for tonight. He slowed his movement down, gently moving inside her, as she attempted to catch her breath. His lips never left her body, kissing every inch of her creamy, ivory skin he could reach, while murmuring sweet nothings against her skin.

She cupped his face and brought his lips to hers, kissing him soundly, putting all her feelings, everything words couldn't describe into this kiss. "Derek..." she murmured, tearing her lips away from his; partly for air, mainly because she wanted to look into his eyes. "Please..."

He got her message right away and began thrusting into her harder. Her nails dug into the back of his head, leaving angry red marks on his skin as his hand moved from her breast to where they were intimately joined.

She felt the fever in her that subsided not long ago raise again. "Harder..." she cried out softly as he hit the sweet spot inside her.

He obeyed her command, giving everything he had into bringing her to the peak again while he stroked her clit in counterpoint to his thrusts. He drove into her hard, but his kisses were soft and gentle, conveying love.

She moaned and whimpered, arching against him, so close. He was close too, obvious from his ragged breathing, his slightly uneven pace, his growls of satisfaction; how could he not be when she felt so damn good throbbing hotly around his length.

With a few last deliciously deep thrusts into her, they both came almost simultaneously with primal cries of pleasure.

For moments, they remained in each other's arms both completely out of breath and exhausted by their union, yet totally satisfied. No doubt they'd be aching tomorrow, but it was worth it and they'd rather have it than not. After all, it was a reminder of their first night together as a married couple and hopefully, it had set the tone for the rest of their lives.

He moved after several long moments, attempting to lift his weight off her and shifted his hips to move out of her, but she had other ideas. Wrapping her arms and legs snugly around his body, she brought his body close to her again, keeping him inside.

"Not yet," she whispered, "A little longer like this, okay?"

He chuckled softly; she knew he could never say no to her, especially not when she unleashed her puppy dog eyes and adorable pout on him. Silently, he granted her wish, drawing his arms around her still trembling body and pressed soft kisses on her flushed skin as they basked in the warmth of the delicious afterglow of their love making.

******

Later, much later, Emily snuggled closer to Derek, sleepily listening to his steady heartbeat after another round of love making while watching night sky of Quantico. Where they found the strength to go another round, she'd never know. Perhaps it was abstaining from sex for weeks leading up to the wedding that had left them insatiable or they simply wanted each other too much.

"Go to sleep, baby," she heard her husband mumble, "You're tired."

She giggled softly, kissing him quickly; she had to agree, she was exhausted. But a part of her didn't want the day to end. Then again, this was just the first day of the rest of their lives...


End file.
